A Test Of Friendship
by TheJunebug1218
Summary: 'He ran as fast as his dying body would carry him.' Merlin and Arthur's friendship is tested, and Camelot's fate is put on the line. NO SLASH! Merlin!WHUMP. AFTER SEASON 3!  *Warning: Bloodshed, light torture scenes. HIATUS!
1. Prologue

**A/N~ Hello! This is my first new fic in a while. Read and I'll explain more on the bottom. **

**ENJOY!**

**A/N 2~ THIS IS A REPOST, to make it fit with later events. I hope you guys aren't confused, but it should make sense later on. THANKS!**

He ran, as fast as his dying body would carry him. The clamor and angry shouts behind him were getting louder. He kept running, never looking back. Blood left a trail behind him, even more obvious then his footprints. They would catch up with him eventually. _No! Keep running, don't stop!_

His boots had been stolen by the bandits, not that they were any good to him anymore. It made no difference to him, as long as he was free. They were more like rags on his feet, than shoes anyway.

Again and again he heard his name being called out from behind him. They were closer…closer, gaining on him. Now he heard arrows fly past him. He ran faster, knowing his fate would be the same either way. He didn't want to die a prisoner, he wanted to die a free man. Behind him, more yelling and metal clashing together. It was all a jumble, as blood continued to leak from his wounds.

He concentrated on keeping his eyes open, but it was getting harder now. Trees and stumps mingled together, roots grabbed at his ankles, trying to make him fall. Then, all of a sudden, new voices rang out through the woods. Yelling, footfall, noises in front and behind him clashed together. His sight was failing him, his vision clouded over with blood, sweat and exhaustion.

Then his legs failed him, and his shoulder connected with a tree. Falling around the tree and landing hard on the ground, he lay unmoving. The voices, loud, but distant and growing quiet. The silence bore into him, and he felt alone. No one was chasing him, and no one was looking for him.

He pulled himself closer to the tree that brought him to the ground. A large root was sticking out of the ground and he rested his head on it.

Pain ripped through his wounds and his oxygen deprived lungs. Finally, he had a moment to access his body damage.

The bandits were efficient. His pale back, which started out nearly free of scares had been violated with knife cut after knife cut, after he refused to say his name. His chest, with broken ribs jabbing at his innards after he refused to reveal his master. And his back had become even more of a throbbing mess of cuts; when they asked for information on Camelot. Deep purple bruises that covered his legs; random kicks from his captors as they passed him and cursed him. And the worst injury, the one that was bleeding without pause; a long thin knife that slipped through his stomach, made when he was trying to escape. Damn, he was done for.

He struggled to get his breath back, but his lungs weren't getting any air. Something seemed to be poking it from the inside, every time he tried to take a deep breath. But with each heave, his lungs felt even more on fire, before all hell broke loose.

A new deep pain, crushing his chest. Now no air entered his lungs, as they began filling with his own blood. He choked, and blood rose up into his throat. Gurgling and gasping, his hands fumbled blindly for the root.

Grasping the wet mossy root with his hands, he pulled himself onto his side. He gagged as much of the red liquid as he could out of his throat and lungs.

How ironic, that his life blood could be his death. He could survive when he was drowning on dry land. It wouldn't take long before he would be to weak to expel the blood so he could breath. The warm day felt colder, and he shivered, wincing at the metallic taste and sour smell of blood.

His breathing slowed, and his eyes were sliding together. He barely heard the footsteps running towards his body. The voices were returning, but he was too weak to take much notice.

But, they were calling his name again. _His_ name, not angry, but frantically. His mind was screaming for them, 'Help, I'm here.'

His name, and a familiar voice. Merlin….Merlin….Merlin, Merlin, Merlin, Merlin, his name was Merlin. "MERLIN! Wake up Merlin! Don't do this, please! I'm sorry, I did this. I did this…."

Merlin was lifted up, and cradled. He wanted to answer, 'Yes, I hear you, I'm here…I'm here…' But only one word escaped his lips.

"Arthur."

**A/N~ I know you have questions, so don't ask about where this all came from. It WILL be explained next chapter! If you want me to continue… I hope you do! Just review and let me know! THANK YOU!**


	2. Headaches

**A Test of Friendship~ Chapter 1~ Headaches**

**A/N~ Wow! What a great response last chap! I'm really excited about this story. :D Hence the big smile. I apologize for the wait, i was supposed to have this up Saterday, but of course life had to get in the way*rolls eyes*. **

**Anyway, back to the story...I had an idea of what I wanted this story to be, but it seemed boring. So I'm changing it a bit. It will be a longer fic, my first full length story! YAY! I guess...well, we'll see how it goes. XD ****Sorry, so, I don't want to reveal my evil plans…but I promise to keep you entertained! (I hope…) Let me know if you like the 'beginning of this story'.**

**READ~ This was re-uploaded, as I changed the starting point in comparison to the prologue from a month to a week. I felt that a week was a good time-frame. ;)**

**ENJOY!**

~_About two months after finale for season 3, 1 week before prologue._

Merlin pressed a callused hand hard against his forehead. But the throbbing pain only grew, forcing him to drop the pillow onto Arthur's half-made bed. Using his other hand, he cradled his head, pressing harder.

Flashes of images danced in and out of his mind's eye. A sword shining in the sunlight, an arrow, Arthur's worried face, a golden eye flashed, a bloody dagger, a voice…someone was screaming his name. Merlin….Merlin… "MERLIN!" Arthur called from behind the screen, his bath water sloshing onto the floor.

Merlin gasped, all the air in his lungs was expelled. But the pain disappeared along with the images. Arthur must have heard his heavy breaths, and seemed mildly concerned. "Merlin? Are you alright? Didn't hurt yourself, did you?"

"No, I'm fine." he said, hands shaking as he reached for a neatly folded towel. Something was very wrong. The headaches had been worsening, growing more painful and elongated. It all started a few days after the events of Morgause's death. At first they started as a dull throbbing, but had grown immensely over a course of a few months. And these strange images accompanied them.

The same images replaying in his head over and over. Sword, arrow, Arthur, magic, dagger, voice…every time. And it was growing, more images, becoming even more clear now than ever.

Merlin shuddered and carried the towel to Arthur, hanging over the screen. "Is that all for now, sire?"

"Oh God, Merlin, don't try to be formal. You sound like an idiot." Arthur climbed out of the tub and wrapped the towel around his waist. He walked around from behind the screen.

"I thought you liked it when people did what you asked." Merlin gave a shadowy smile, grabbing Arthur's dirty clothes.

"Not when it makes them this boring." He walked over to his dresser, but stopped and turned to look at Merlin again. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Why wouldn't I?" Merlin deflected, moving towards the door.

Arthur grabbed his arm, and forced him to stop. "Merlin, is there something your not telling me?"

Merlin looked away from Arthur's hard gaze, pondering that question. Should he say something about the headaches? Looking up, he gave his best attempt at a laugh, "No! Just had trouble sleeping last night, that's all."

Arthur slowly relented, and released his grasp on Merlin's arm. "Fine. Go, I'll see you tonight."

Merlin bowed and walked out of the chambers, silent.

* * *

><p>"Gaius." Merlin walked over by the old physician, who had been reading through an old study.<p>

"Ah, feeling any better? How are the headaches?" Gaius asked, glancing up.

"Worse, and I think Arthur suspects something. If he finds out, there is no way I can protect my secret. He will come asking about it, I'm sure." Merlin said, sighing and slumping down onto their old bench. He grabbed his head with his long fingers and rubbed his temples. "Have you found anything yet?"

"Nothing. I wish I could help, but this is beyond me." Gaius said, closing the book. "We need to do something about this. I can't sit here and watch you suffer like this." He sighed.

"If you can't help, I doubt anyone else can. Just, don't say anything to anyone, ok?" Merlin stood, and walked over to his doorway.

"Of course, is there anything I can get you? We could try something other than wolf's bane?" Gaius asked.

Merlin shook his head, "Nothing is working. I'll just have to deal with it for now." And he disappeared into his room, closing the door slowly behind him.

* * *

><p>Arthur gathered from Merlin's behavior, that something else was wrong, and it had shown for weeks now. Merlin's tired eyes, drooping, his slower and more skittish reactions. And he was becoming a polite and quiet servant, just as he should be. Which was what worried him. This wasn't the Merlin he knew. Something had changed…something always changes.<p>

That's why he tried to consult Gaius, but got nothing.

"I'm sure he is just tired, sire. He's been helping sort through my books lately, and I keep him up quite late. I'm sure its nothing to worry about." Gaius carefully avoided the question. Arthur was frustrated, but accepted the fact that he wouldn't get much else out of Gaius.

"Fine, but let me know if you notice any changes." Arthur replied, before storming out of the room. He needed answers, NOW.

**So, this is slightly off track with what you were expecting, I'm sure. Don't worry, this will all be explained in future chapters...if you like it. But if you do like this, could you let me know? Or let me know if it is crappy? *bits lip nervously* I await your response...**


	3. Unknown Answers

**A Test of Friendship~ Chapter 2~ Unknown Answers**

**A/N~ So sorry guys! I know I should have had this sooner, but school started and I've been swamped! :C I hope your not disappointed in me. Personal news for today….9/11 is remembered, for those who do not live in the United States. Forever in our hearts….and some good news, I am officially confirmed as a member of my church! :D So excited!  
><strong>**Anyway, here is chapter 2. I'm not sure how this story is going to turn out, but maybe I'll get lucky! XD**

**ENJOY!**

"NO!" Merlin gasped, eyes wide and white with terror and pain. Curling over onto his side, his sweaty nightshirt clinging to him, as he held his head with his eyes now squeezed shut. The horrible visions played over in his mind, never fading, only haunting him more. He moaned and rocked himself back and forth, cradling his head with his long pale fingers grabbing desperately at his damp ebony hair.

"No…no…no, please no…" Merlin whimpered and tears soaked his pillow. The headache dulled his senses, and hid didn't notice Gaius come in until the old man gatherered him in his arms.

"Sh…its alright, I've got you my boy," Gaius whispered gently. He leaned back against the wall and let Merlin's head lay in over his chest. Merlin shuddered slightly, and relaxed into his stomach. His breathing evened out and his hands fell from his head, as he fell into a haunted sleep.

* * *

><p>Arthur awoke, got dressed(by himself), and left his chambers quietly, just as the sun was peeking through the trees of Camelot's bordering forest. The ray's golden glow tinted the walls of the corridor as he walked in his tall long stride. His face was stern and emotionless, and he only nodded at passing servents, a custom he had been taught long ago.<p>

His mission was simple. Find out what was wrong with Merlin. Gaius, nor Merlin would give him any answer, he would have to find out himself. As he walked, the sounds of the waking castle grew distant and fewer servants passed him as he made his way to the eastern end of the castle. Slowing his walk, he glanced warily behind him, making sure no one was watching before he disappeared into a old oak doorway.

Inside, the musty smell of books and dust tickled his nose hairs, and he announced himself with a sneeze. "AAACHOOOO!" Arthur's head nearly hit his knees from the forceful exhaust of air and snot.

After recovering from his, ahem, little moment, he looked around the Court Library. The only things present were rows of bookshelves and piles of scrolls, most neat and tidy, while others lay abandon on a very messy desk. Arthur approached, interested.

He had spent very little time in the library, and only visited it once in a while. The longest time he spent was when he told his father he wanted to know 'everything about everything.' That short-lived spurt of ethusiasim ended with a 7-year old sleeping on top of a very tall desk filled with piles of books, none of which were open.

Smiling at the memory, he took a glance at the open book on Geoffrey of Monmouth's desk. Its faded and worn brown binding was beginning to tear, and the pages were yellowed with age. Frowning, he walked around the desk to see what the words read.

The old book was scribbled in a barely legible cursive, the black ink faded and weeping from water damage of some kind. Squinting, he lowered his eyes to the page.

'_The ability to See has become a very rare gift, bestowed upon only a select few. Those with the gift, not only see the future, but suffer it. It is said that a vision can be replayed over and over, in greater detail as its true time approaches. Reports of headaches, fevers, and weakness with devastation and deathly visions. _

_The Druids, or the 'Keepers of Prophecy', are a band of seer's who have vowed to keep secret the vision's of he future, no matter how important or inferior. Few of these prophecies are revealed. _

_A Seer can also suffer through visions of their own death, leading to paths of depression and withdrawal from the world. Instead of good, the ability to 'See' is deadly and dangerous. _

_One such prophecy speaks of a Great King-'_

"Sire?"

Arthur looked, surprised by the presence of the bearded man who stood, bushy eyebrows furrowed, in the doorway. "Ah, Geoffrey, I needed to speak with you." He walked away from the text, trying to shake the uneasy feeling he gained after reading it.

Geoffrey gave a nervous aura as he glanced worriedly over to his desk. He looked suspiciously at Arthur, and masked the worried look behind his hairy features. "What is it that you require?"

Arthur looked him straight in the eye, "Its about my manservant, Merlin. He is ill, and Gaius doesn't know anything, or won't tell me." Looking away, Arthur turned slightly, facing the daunting shelves. "I need to know what is wrong with him."

"Indeed, I know of Merlin's illness. Gaius consulted me, asking for information. I gave him a book…" Geoffrey walked over to his desk. He watched Arthur carefully, judging him almost.

"What book?"

"Oh, why don't you ask Gaius that?" He avoided the question, fumbling with a few loose papers on the edge of the table.

"Geoffrey," Arthur said, leaning forward so his face was inches away from Geoffrey's. "He wouldn't tell me anything, and neither will you. What is it that you three aren't telling me?" His glaring gaze waited for an answer.

"Sire, I'm afraid that is confidential, even for you."

Arthur straightened himself, nostrils flaring in anger as adrenaline coursed through his veins. "I have every right to know what is wrong with _my_ manservant. I am the Prince of Camelot, and I order you to tell me."

Geoffrey sighed, and slammed the book on his desk shut, "Sire, I'm afraid that I still can't tell you."

"WHY?" Arthur yelled, spit flying.

"Because I don't know myself."

**Oh my! What does Geoffrey know? Is he telling the truth about his ignorance on Merlin's condition? Or does he know more than he is letting on? Review and let me know what you think! :D**


	4. Hunting Answers

**A Test of Friendship~ Chapter 3~ Hunting Answers**

**A/N~ Hello! Again, I'm late, but I have excuses! Had to throw in a bit of Geoffrey stuff….I love that guy, especially his eyebrows! And 74 alerts? You guys are amazing!**

**ENJOY!**

"Your lying Geoffrey, I know you are. You could get arrested for this." Arthur said, pointing a finger at the old man.

"Arthur, I trust Gaius." Arthur continued to stare at the old man. "He is my friend, and when he asks a favor of me, I rarely dissagree. I owe him that much." Geoffrey paused, looking off, somewhere beyond the library.

_The man's bushy brown eyebrows furrowed together as another cough shook through him, scratching his lungs more and more. His fever bright eyes looked unfocused at the physician hovering above him. But the man's hands were opened and laying flat on his chest, and he spoke words that Geoffrey had not heard in a long time. "Gaius…no…" But Gaius continued, ignorant of the dying man's requests._

_"I must Geoffrey, I cannot let you die knowing I could have saved you." Gaius said, in a bittersweet tone. Then he began to chant the healing spell, that saved Geoffrey's life._

"Geoffrey? Geoffrey!" Arthur grabbed the old man by the shoulders and eased him down into his chair.

"I'm sorry sire. I owe Gaius my life, my allegiance. But you are right. Merlin needs you." Geoffrey let out a long shuddering breath and put a hand on the side of his face.

"Geoffrey, what must I do?" Arthur asked in a whisper.

"Arthur, you must ask that of Merlin. Only he has the right to reveal that to you." Arthur straightened his back, nodded quickly and left the room.

* * *

><p>Merlin awoke to Gaius's snoring. His wrinkled fingers were tangled in his hair, while his other hand lay on Merlin's chest.<p>

"Gaius." Merlin sighed. The snoring continued.

Merlin took in a deep breath, groaning as the pounding in his head awoke. He made a move to disconnect his mentor's arms from his hair and torso. Slowly but surely, he escaped his bed.

Then he walked away from the small messy bed over to the high window.

Climbing atop his bench, careful of the numerous books that covered it, he opened the window and peeked his head out. The sun's glare bit his eyes with its fierce light. Slowly his pupils adjusted and he took in the view. Clouds of smoke billowed from a dozen houses, all getting ready for the day.

"Good morning." Merlin said to himself. He gave a shadowy smile and climbed down.

* * *

><p>After dressing, he left Gaius asleep in his bed. Walking the halls comeforted him. The warm feel of the castle, living and breathing. Its familiar feeel and comfort had helped him through so much. It was the true remedy to cure all ills. It was home.<p>

_Merlin._

A cold chill shuddered along his spine and he shivered.

_Merlin._

He looked around, hoping it was someone down the hall. But in his heart he knew it wasn't. Then the previous nights images danced around his eyesight. Blood…so much blood…

"Merlin?" A voice called for him.

He opened his eyes, though he didn't even remember closing them. Looking up, he saw Gwen standing over him, griping his shoulder gently with her dark callused hand. "Merlin?" Gwen asked again. "Are you feeling well?" Funny, he didn't remember falling to the ground either.

"Gwen, I…." he stood up as fast as he could, but regretted the movement as a sharp pain ripped through his skull and nausea swayed his balance. His hand grabbed for the wall for support, but it was Gwen who kept him upright.

"What on earth has happened to you? You look horrible! Well, not…_horrible_, but, your skin and bones Merlin!" Gwen gaped at the man.

"I'm…fine. Really." Merlin groaned. "Thanks Gwen, I'll see you later." He muttered as he launched himself off the wall towards Arthur's chambers.

* * *

><p>Slowly, Merlin opened the door, wincing at the squeaks of the under greased hinges. He smiled, thinking gleefully, <em>'I'm early, now he can't say I'm slacking.' <em>He crept towards the four-poster bed and peeked around the curtains.

"Arthur?" Merlin stood confused at the empty bed. Instead, he whipped his head around at the sound of Arthur's low voice.

Arthur stood in the archway between his bedchamber and inner chamber, arms crossed. His brow was furrowed tight with a frown etched on his face. He already had a leather vest on and a pair of riding boots.

"Merlin, lets go for a ride."

**REVIEW?**


	5. Incoming Storm

**A Test of Friendship~ Chapter 4~ Incoming Storm**

**A/N~ I'm pretty sure I forewarned you guys of my busy schedule. If not, I'm sorry! I wanted to write this sooner, but I just had to much going on and I couldn't concentrate. And if the chapter is short, I truly apologize. I do write short chapters, but I believe that each writer has their own style, and I guess this is mine! And I will attempt longer chapters in the future, depending on what its contents will be, so stick with me. :)**

**Also, 94 alerts? 33 favorites? Am I blind? WOW! Thank you all so much! :D**

**Anywho…**

**ENJOY!**

Merlin followed, silent and reticent. His eyes drooped and weakly fought to stay open. Arthur walked in a stiff and quick gait, forcing Merlin to trot along after him like a faithful hound. In essence, he was a hound. Skinny, loyal and selfless…except on those occasions when Arthur called him an idiot. He couldn't help but to retort to every comment his master made.

Master…it sounded so formal. So cold, uncaring. And their servants were more like slaves to them than anything else. They had been taken only because of their poverty. This form of justice was common after the Great Purge. Uthur needed to keep order, and if people couldn't repay their debts, then they had to work them off.

Merlin had witnessed such slaves pass them by on their quests. The very skin on their backs where so scarred from flogging that you could barely recognize it as flesh. And raw bleeding strips glittered fresh and hot. The faces, all the faces, so broken. Arthur had expressed his sympathies, but Uther silenced any attempt he made to free them. They 'deserve it' he said.

He shuddered at the memory. To be caught and bound as such would be torture, not because of the pain, but the loneliness. Watching people pass by, staring straight ahead without a glance in their pitiful direction must be cruel. Possibly worse than their fate as indentured servants.

Shaking his head, Merlin dropped the thought. Such a stupid thought, Arthur would never do something like that. Sure, he deserved the stocks every once in a while, but to harm him…no, that wasn't what he would do.

Maybe its because I was late the past couple of days, or that incident with the chamber pot…

* * *

><p>Arthur glanced back once more at Merlin. The poor servant was nearly falling over with exhaustion. Maybe another day would be better. No, today, I have to know.<p>

However curious he was, he stayed silent until they reached the stables. Horses snorted and pranced restlessly while stable boys ran about with buckets of grain. Taking a deep breath he spun on his heel to face the person in question.

"Ready your horses, pack my traveling gear and equipment. I'll saddle my own." Arthur ordered.

Merlin bowed his head, muttering "Yes sire." Then he turned around walking down the way to his horse's stall. Arthur turned in the opposite direction and wandered down past rows of tack, grain and leather. Servants rushed past, barely taking the time to bow and acknowledge him. But he didn't care, he had to much on his mind.

In the forefront of his thoughts was how to bring up such a delicate subject. It seemed so simple to any other person, but with Merlin…it felt like he was intruding. No matter how talkative Merlin was, he never _said_ anything. He never mentioned his past and his personal life, other than that which he spent time with the other knights. Stories of Merlin's kindness and cheerful nature were well known to every servant. But what was behind that smile?

Frustration was building as he reached the brown gelding's stall. Snorting, the horse stuck his head over the door and breathed onto Arthur's face.

Bringing him out of his thoughts, Arthur smiled. Good old Jeff, his old partner in crime. He'd had Jeff for well over 7 years know, and the gelding still was his favorite ride. "How we doing, Jeffy? Eh?"

The animal snorted and rubbed his head against Arthur's shoulder, who began rubbing his forehead. After a minute or so, Arthur stopped and grabbed a lead before opening the door.

He tied Jeff up and began brushing his soft furry hair, even though he was already glowing. Saddling him and slipping the bridle on, they walked together back towards Merlin, who stood with his own horse, a black mare, who stood patiently as he tied the rest of the gear onto her back.

"Ready yet Merlin?" Arthur asked, trying to shake the uncertain feeling that grew in the pit of his stomach.

"Yeah, what about you prat?" Merlin gave a nervous smile, watching Arthur's reaction. Merlin suspected something was wrong, and he was testing. _Go with the flow. _He swung his leg up and over, situating himself in the saddle.

"Just hurry up, idiot. We've got places to go." Arthur attempted at a playful banter. It wasn't very convincing.

* * *

><p>Gaius lay snoring in Merlin's bed well into the morning, the sun directly visible through the small window. Squinting, he slowly woke, and yawned. "Ah….Merlin? You'll be late, 'gain." Gaius rolled over, before sitting up. "Merlin?"<p>

Looking around, he discovered he was all alone. He heaved himself up, stretched his back, and walked down the steps. His back was aching from his little slumber party in Merlin's tiny bed. The poor boy's back will be hunched over from all the work he does…and with so much responsibility on his shoulders.

The physician quickly dressed and readied his supplies for the day. After grabbing a chunk of bread, he walked toward the door. But before he reached it, it swung open with a flurry of red cloth and fur swinging through it.

"Geoffrey? What has you in my chambers this early?" Gaius asked, staring shocked at the panting librarian.

"Gaius…you….I…Arthur….asked….Merlin…ahhh…" Geoffrey bent over himself trying to catch his breath and tell his tale at the same time.

"Whoa, slow down, I can't hear a word your saying!" After a few moments, and some deep breaths, the two were seated at the crowded table. "Now, what were you trying to tell me?

"Arthur…this morning he came looking in the records room. He suspects Gaius, he suspects Merlin may have more secrets than he says. I'm afraid for the outcome." Geoffrey explained. He pulled a scroll, old and yellow, and carefully unrolled it. Gaius took it and read.

Eyebrows knit together and lips pursed in a scowl, Gaius looked up into his old friends eyes. "What do you know of the Great Prophecy?"

* * *

><p>Gwen stood at the top of the battlements, her favorite place to think. The whole castle and the surrounding town was bustling with life.<p>

All she could think about was the way Merlin had looked, his shirt hanging off his limbs like a robe. Merlin had so many responsibilities to deal with, it was no surprise that his body should react in such a way. But being so skinny to begin with…something was wrong. And it was killing her not knowing.

"Oh Merlin." Gwen whispered, wiping the tears from her eyes. The wind blew harshly, whipping her hair and dress around. Looking up, she gasped, as dark cloud began pushing their way from the north, and the electric spark in the air made Gwen's hair frizz even more. And farther off, there were flashes of lightning and the distant rumble of thunder rolled across the land.

Gwen looked down at the courtyard below, wondering if the market would close down or not. But down in the street below, Gwen noticed two horses trotting off into the forest. One black haired rider, and a blonde haired rider rode toward the storm.


	6. Taken

**A Test of Friendship~ Chapter 5~ Taken**

**A/N~ Finally done with the boring stuff! Now the fun begins. ;D And my schedule is beginning to clear up, so I will have more time for my imagination to run wild. **

**~~Just had this looked over by a friend, and she fixed some misspellings for me. :)~~**

**ENJOY!**

Merlin could hear the distant roll of thunder. Overhead, dark storm clouds loomed, and it made him uneasy.

Arthur was a level-headed man, and surely he wouldn't be so foolish to ride out into a storm? Something was different about Arthur today and the way he kept glancing back, as though he expected something horrible to happen before his eyes.

"Arthur?" Merlin called. The Prince looked back, but said nothing in return, and turned his head forward once more. "Arthur, where are we going?"

"I told you, Merlin, we are just riding today." Arthur said, without looking back.

Deep in his heart, Merlin knew that wasn't the truth, and something horrible was going to happen. He could feel it, he sensed his magic stirring within him. "Arthur, I think we should turn back."

"You scared of rain, Merlin?" Arthur teased, but didn't laugh or smile, only shot him a short worried glance.

"No, but…something doesn't feel right. Something…" Merlin's voice faded. A warning, his magic was warning him, burning beneath his fingertips. His grip tightened and his knuckles turned white. His head pounded as it had the night before.

The same images that had been plaguing him flashed through his mind. Without thinking, his hand pressed itself to his forehead, which was creased in pain.

He hadn't noticed the new surroundings, or the fact that they had stopped. He opened his eyes slowly. The trees surrounding them were foreign, unfamiliar, and their darkening branches reached out for him. The bark turned darker and darker as rain began falling harder and harder. The cold droplets soaked him, and his hair was slicked to his forehead. And his body shook, not only from the freezing rain, but the pain in his head.

Merlin's eyes turned to Arthur, who sat atop his horse facing his direction. Worry distorted his face and his eyes were wide with fear.

Then the vision took him, more real and physical than before. His lids closed and scrunched together.

Blood, so much blood.

Screams.

Pain, blinding, body seizing pain.

Someone was begging, pleading…for him. Merlin…Merlin…stay awake….I did this…Merlin

"Merlin?" Arthur's voice echoed.

But he couldn't comprehend the two realities. They mashed together in his head, both asking the same question. Both saying the same name. Merlin.

So much noise, it blocked out everything now. Darkness swallowed him, and he fell.

* * *

><p>Arthur watched, calling out Merlin's name as the boy began to shudder and gasp like he couldn't breathe. He turned his horse all the way around, and the horse pranced in place, obviously unnerved by something. He himself, had felt the same way. Merlin was right, there was something wrong about this place. He'd been to busy thinking to notice how far they'd ridden.<p>

And obviously, he was ill by some means, whatever it was. Arthur could only look on, almost frozen, his gloved hands tightening their grip on the reins. Merlin opened his eyes, just for a few moments. And Arthur looked directly into them, as water dripped down into his eyes, and he blinked them away. Glassy blue orbs, full of pain, looked back. But suddenly they closed and Merlin fell sideways out of the saddle onto the muddy forest floor. Merlin's horse sidestepped away from the heap and tossed it's head. The whites of it's eyes were visible beneath the animals black mane. Then it took off, flying past Arthur and his horse, and ran up the small incline of a hill.

Looking back at Merlin, he finally melted. "Merlin!" Arthur yelled, moving to dismount.

But before he could, his horse shrieked and collapsed to the right. The animal jerked from under him, dragging him with it. He tried to move out of the saddle, but his muscles tightened in panic, trapping his leg in the stirrup. Everything moved slowly, and it felt like forever before both Arthur and his horse finally collided against the ground.

Mud splashed into his face and onto his leather jacket. The horse struggled for a moment, then fell still, mud covering it in specks.

Pain. His leg trapped beneath the carcass, making him scream. Arthur's vision blurred and he tried to push the animal off him, but he had no chance of getting out alone. Seconds later, he realized his horse had been shot with an arrow.

It's black shaft and fletching imbedded in flesh, and around the wound, blood ran thick.

What had happened? Then, yells and heavy thudding footsteps ran down the hill behind him. Arthur twisted his head around, and gaped at the sight.

Black leather clad bandits ran screaming toward him. And Merlin.

"NO!" Arthur screamed. Adrenaline pounded through his veins, and he struggled to reach for his dagger, desperate to protect his manservant, wherever he was. He couldn't see over his dead horse's large stomach, and trying to peek over was hard enough. He could just barely brush the hilt of the gilded dagger. "Merlin! Arm yourself!" But he had know idea if Merlin was even conscious.

Of course, he wouldn't stand it if the poor boy was run through by a bandit. He couldn't live with himself at all.

_It's your fault your even here in the first place. _Which was correct, as he did force Merlin to come so he could question him. It was all his fault. Why the hell did he decide to ride out, not only in a storm, but into the most bandit infested forest within Camelot's borders? How could he be so stupid!

His arm strained, and he pulled harder until his muscles felt like they were burning. Two of the bandits ran past him, heading in Merlin's direction. This only heightened Arthur's drive to reach the knife.

Finally, the cool metal slipped into his grasp. But before he could wield it, a thick calused hand snatched it away, holding it against his throat. "Not so fast, pretty boy." Arthur looked up in fear at the grinning face above him. "What have we got here?"

Arthur said nothing, but placed his warrior's grimace on and glared at the dirty man. The rotted yellow smile made him want to vomit, thought he hadn't eaten anything that day. His smell was putrid and nauseating. But he stayed still.

"ANSWER ME BOY! Who are you?" The man shook with anger, his smile disappearing.

"Stop! Milton, at ease man! We don't have time to waste." Another, more elegantly garbed bandit walked next to the fuming man, and grabbed him firmly by the arm. His presence silenced the others and the forest was nearly silent. He wore the same black leather, but a gold pendant hung from his chest, inlayed with a blood red ruby. He spoke again, letting go of the bandits arm. "Grab what you can and leave him, he's good as dead anyway."

The bandit nodded and moved away from Arthur's line of vision. Arthur finally spoke. "What do you want? Leave us be! You have no right to do this!" He said these things firmly, but inside he was afraid. He didn't know what was going to happen, and Merlin…

"I've every right, boy, and your in no state to stop me." The old man chuckled, and bellowed. "Lets go boys, we've got to reach the border by nightfall!" After yelling this, he walked up to Arthur, who squirmed away, moving closer to the horses carcass. The man looked intently at Arthur, almost observing him. He came so close, that Arthur could feel his breath brush his skin. Arthur shivered at the thought of what he might do with the sword swinging at his side. He looked at it nervously, eyeing the bandit, judging what he might do with him.

Then he heard a cry of pain. His eyes averted, he pushed himself up as far as his trapped leg would let him go, and he saw Merlin come into sight. Two bandits held him by the arms, and were tying them together behind his back. One pulled his sword out of it's sheath, raised it above his head and let it fall, the hilt striking the manservant on the back of his head. Merlin went limp, and lay piled on the ground.

Arthur looked back at the bandit, his fright evident on his face. "Let him go. Please, I'm begging you."

Squinting, the man stared, then shoved his face next to Arthur's, who retracted from the horrid breathe. "I don't think I want to. He could be useful to me. You, however, are trapped without shelter in this rain. You'll be dead in a few days, if not sooner. Lets go!" And they all turned toward the forest where they had come.

"NO! Merlin!" Arthur struggled, grimacing as he tried and failed to get himself free. Merlin was drapped over one bandit's shoulder, his arms swinging, and Arthur could see a trail of blood dripping from his hair.

And Arthur could only watch, shivering with cold, as his friend was carried away, until he disappeared into the forest.

* * *

><p>"Gaius? Are you here?" Gwen peeked around the door, looking inside the Physician's Chambers. The fire was burning low in the corner, and a stack of opened books lay on the table. Curious, she crossed the floor, and sat at the bench. Fingering through the books, she struggled to read some of the words, having been meagerly taught how to read. Finally she gave up, and pushed the old text away.<p>

"Guinevere?" Gaius asked. He closed the door, and stepped across the room. Gwen rose from the seat.

"Gaius, I've…." She took a deep breath before continuing, "I've come to talk about Merlin."

Gaius frowned, and his eyebrow raised, causing wrinkles to crinkle his forehead. "What about him?" "I saw him this morning, and he seemed ill. He was as pale as the moon, Gaius, and he couldn't even stand up straight. I'm scared for him." She said, concern written in her features.

Gaius walked over to the maid, and gathered her in his arms, as she began crying softly. "I am too, my girl, I am too."

**Wow, that was long for me! XD Tell me what you think! I'd love to read your comments!**

**Oh, and HAPPY HALLOWEEN! :D**


	7. In Need

**A Test of Friendship~Chapter 6~In Need**

**A/N~ Hello! Ok, first off, there is an excellent fic that I am betaing right now by The Saga. She is a brilliant writer and deserves a lot more than she gets. Please, read her fic called So It Must Be. I really think it deserves more attention. THANK YOU!**

**Also, I am so grateful of all my reviewers. I will try to do what you want, and I added a Warning in my synopsis to that one reviewer. I'm glad you spoke your mind, and hopefully you are a little bit happier with me! I apologize for mistakes or slow updating, but hopefully it is worth the wait. **

**Also, also, since I started before Season 4 started, I will continue the story as if this was the year between Season 3 and 4. Let me know if you have any grievances about that!**

**Ok, I'm done rambling now!**

**ENJOY!**

Thunder shook the window panes as lightning and rain created a hell outside the castle walls. All that stood between Leon and the horrific weather was a 6 inch wall of mortar and brickwork. It was the nearly noon, and the sun should have been shining above Camelot. He jumped slightly as another resounding crack of thunder boomed through the hall.

"Sir Leon, I must speak with you." Leon turned around, facing the speaker. Gaius stood with his hands clasped behind his back, before bowing to the knight. Leon waved his hand.

"No need for the formalities Gaius; it's just you and me. Have you heard from Merlin? He's usually with Arthur, and now that Arthur's disappeared..." He asked, sitting down at the next chair closest to the King's, just to the right. Gaius followed the example, sitting in the next closest chair and let out a heavy sigh.

"Not since this morning. I've checked the usual places, and he hasn't turned up."

Lean frowned, "Did you check the tavern?" Gaius let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. He looked up a some old stained glass panes. They were old, made at the same time the castle was built. The scene was well known, to all of Camelot's people.

In the first pane, a man wearing a worn leather jacket holds a glowing sword above his head. In the next, Camelot's high towers are being built in the middle of a thousand year old forest. In the last, a king stands atop the battlements of Camelot, who's white mortar walls seem to glisten as the lightning illuminates the scene.

Lean leaned forward, looking at Gaius, then the window pane. "Gaius? What is it?"

"Nothing, just….memories. When you get to be as old as I am, it gets harder and harder to remember the past. 'Tis always a joy when one remembers something, especially if it is a good memory." His eyes seemed a bit watery, and he tried to bat the tears away, but he could stop them all.

"Are you alright?" The knight placed his gloved hand on the old man's shoulder.

"I can't believe Merlin is gone, I just can't." He struggled to get the words out. One wrinkled hand covered his face, while the other curled into a tight ball, making his already pale knuckles even whiter with pressure.

"Gaius, I know that I don't know Merlin as well as you," Leon began, "but if anyone is going to survive the deepest darkest stormiest night or a hundred bandits, it's Merlin." He let out a short laugh, "I wish I knew how, but that boy can get his way out of anything. He fights, and I believe he'll keep fighting until he and Arthur are home. He'd even haul the Prince on his back, like a horse, if he had to."

Gaius raised his head, gave a tight smile and said, "I hope so, for his sake."

A cluster of voices echoed suddenly from the corridor, and footsteps closed in on the chamber. "Ah, that'll be the council."

And right on cue, a group of old men, some dressed in armor, some in elegant tunics of dark maroon or emerald. Leon stood to greet them. They each in turn nodded to Leon and Gaius, before taking their seat around the table. When the room grew silent once more, Leon walked around the table until he stood directly behind the King's chair. His hands gripped the sides of the backboard, and he took a deep breath.

"Prince Arthur is missing and he has no supplies, and from what I gather from various witnesses, he also took his manservant, Merlin, with him.. He was last scene early yesterday morning. I believe he was heading for Blackridge, but I could be wrong." Leon paused to take another deep breath, and walking over to his spot, grabbing several papers of scribbled handwriting. His eyes skimmed the pages, and he continued. "I've sent several scouts out to scan the surrounding forest's, and nothing has come up. I can only assume he rode out farther than he thought and got caught in the storm. I plan on riding out with the Knights to search for him in a few hours." Leon pushed the papers into the middle of the table.

Some of the council members grabbed the papers and read through them, and began talking quietly to themselves. Geoffrey of Monmouth picked up the last page, and glanced at it with a strange face. Then Geoffrey raised his eyebrows, "This was scouted today?" Leon nodded. "I fear I may have had a hand in this."

"How so? Do you know what would make him so reckless?" The knight questioned, furrowing his eyebrows.

"I gave him news yesterday, news he didn't want to hear- no," he put his hand up when Leon tried to ask what it was, and he dismissed it. "It matters not what was said, only that I upset him."

The old men looked at each other, and then in a flurry, they began gossiping. Some just sat shaking their heads, while others stood up in a passion and outbreak of loud spoken words. But Leon, broke it up as quickly as it began. "QUIET!"

They all stared, shocked at the outburst of authority from the usually well-mannered knight. Those who had stood, sat slowly, like Leon was a predator who would pounce at them if they so much as squeaked.

"Thank you. Now…" Leon began, "with your permission, I plan on taking the knights to find the Prince. As Second in Command, I have power over the Knights of Camelot. And seeing as our king is obviously not in the best state to make such decisions, I ask you to take your vote now."

* * *

><p>"Hey, Gwaine, have you seen my boots? I've checked everywhere," Percival asked, picking up everything in sight in the hopes that his boots would be underneath.<p>

Gwaine stretched and turned over on his cot, muttering in his sleep. "Pickles…." The tall man shook his head, and grabbed the blanket covering Gwaine, yanking it away. "Huh…ugh! What happened?" Gwaine sat up slowly, rubbing his crusty eyes.

"How much have you been drinking?"

"Does that really matter? Why'd ya wake me up, anyway?" Gwaine asked, standing up, groaning and holding his head, which ached.

Percival gave him a confused frown. "Haven't you heard?"

"Heard what?"

"Arthur and Merlin are missing. Since yesterday." Percival rolled his eyes, "Were you in the tavern all night, Gwaine?"

"Hey, that doesn't matter. Did Leon give the orders yet?" He asked walking over, more awake then ever, grabbing his chain mail and his own boots.

"Tonight. Now can you tell me where my boots are?"

"They're hanging from the ceiling." Gwaine said, not even glancing at the confused giant. Percival looked up. And sure enough, there they were, dangling from their strings. He was about to ask how they got their, but he figured there were more important things to get to.

* * *

><p>Arthur groaned, clutching his leg. It wasn't broken, but badly bruised and swollen. Pulling himself slowly out from under the carcass of his stallion hadn't been easy or pleasant. He nearly gave up after an hour of pushing and cursing, but he finally succeeded. Everything was blurry, though he wasn't sure if it was from the pain or the tears that dripped hot down his cheeks. Merlin was gone, and it was all his fault.<p>

He managed to get out of the muddy clearing and under a rock face that jutted out overtop of him like a peddler's awning. The rain hadn't stopped all through the night, and his only source of warmth was a soaked, mud-coated blanket. He remained in a state of shock, shivering and staring at the puddles at his feet, as if the he was frozen in time. But really, his mind was rooted elsewhere. Somewhere far away.

Arthur never heard his knight's frantic calls, nor did he see them riding over the hill. He was numb with cold and pain, and so he just let them carry him off. He didn't care anymore, he couldn't think without thinking about it. Merlin was gone.

**I will have Merlin next chapter, I promise! I hope I haven't disappointed anyone so far. Please review and tell me if I have! **


	8. Questions

**A Test of Friendship~ Chapter 7~Questions**

**A/N~ Here is the Merlin whump I know you guys want! I apologize for making you guys wait so long, but let me tell you this: If you stayed with me this long, your faithful, loyal, and just plain amazing. I apologize for the wait, but I've started Driver's Training (yuck), and I had a huge essay for English that I had to finish, so that took up a lot of my time. Not to mention what a beast this chapter was to write, even though its Merlin whump(yay!).**

**By the way, warning for blood and torture.**

**But anywho….**

**ENJOY!**

_~The wicked draw the sword and bend the bow, to bring down the poor and needy, to slay those whose ways are upright. Psalm 37:14_

_~I am feeble and utterly crushed; I groan in anguish of heart. Psalm 38:8_

Merlin woke to a blinding white light shining bright in his unfocused eyes. He groaned inwardly and squinted. He tried to raise his hand, but he found it was bound behind his back. The worn old rope rubbed against his wrists and he could feel his skin getting more raw with every movement. His head throbbed, and he knew there was blood on the back of his head. He felt the dried blood, like an annoying scab, and it itched.

Actually, his whole body ached and itched, and he was obviously soaked. His jacket was missing, either taken by his captives or left behind, he hadn't a clue which. But even though his body was sore, his mind was numb, almost drugged. He struggled to get his sluggish brain to work. What had happened?

He tried to remember, but his memory fizzled in and out of blurriness. He did remember Arthur trying to get to him, and the fact that Arthur's horse had been shot down, taking the Prince with it. Was Arthur ok?

Maybe he was taken by the bandits as well. He was a Prince, and he would bring a good ransom. That is, after all, what bandits did. Pillagers with nothing to survive on other than to kill and steal and ruin the lives of others for their own selfish needs. Presently, he wondered most of all. What would they do with him?

Looking around the camp, he saw a scattering of muddy tents, which must have been colorful once. Now they looked more like the knees of a child's pants, torn and dirty. There were voices around him, mostly men, but he heard the occasional cackle of a woman, most likely drunk. There was a pitiful fire, which was sputtering in and out of existence, obviously burning wet wood. The rain had nearly stopped, and now a light drizzle fell on the camp.

Shivering, he now gained the bearings on his own condition. His weight leaned on the tree behind him, and he sat in a muddy puddle, which wasn't very comfortable. Nor did it provide him with anything but a cold foundation, making him all the more cold. He couldn't stay here, not for long, or the cold would kill him. He pulled against his bindings, but they were to tight.

"Whoa, you planning on escaping boy?" A dirty face appeared looking down at him, and tightened his grip on the knife he held in his left hand. It's blade was dull and rusted, and crusted near the handle was blood, dried brown. It didn't give him any hope, and he almost expected the blow to his face. But it still left him in shock, and he gasped as his cheek began stinging. He could picture the red mark growing on his skin, and so he kept his mouth firmly shut, glaring. "Stubborn, are we? Well, we'll see how stubborn you are after the boss deals with you."

A flash of fear zipped through Merlin's mind, but he remained silent. The bandit cut him from the tree, but keep his hands bound, thankfully, in front of him. Another rope acted like a leash, which dragged Merlin across the ground. He could barely get his feet beneath him, and stumbled across the encampment.

Merlin was lead to the largest tent, which must have been near the center. It too, was dirty and obviously had been in the wilderness for far to long. The main pole stuck out of the center, into the air, and tied to it was a black flag. Well, was a flag, Merlin thought, seeing the frayed edges. But there was something else, something red in the center….it looked like a mess of tangled lines….a branch maybe? No…it can't be…

"No…no…." Merlin whispered, realizing that these were no ordinary bandits…they were Cenred's men. The tent's opening revealed a tall man, who's back was turned, but Merlin knew this was the leader. A general perhaps or some noble from Cenred's court.

Whoever he was, he was dressed more elegantly than the soldiers. A black cloak encircled him and Merlin could see the hilt of a long sword sticking out, where the man's hand rested.

"Sir Azor, the prisioner." The soldier stated, shoving Merlin to his knees. Merlin let out a grunt, and winced.

"Ah," The man turned, revealing a scarred face. The right side of his face had been deformed so badly, that his right eye had been closed almost completely by the scar tissue. He bore a crest on his tunic, the blood red tree that was Cenred's emblem. "What a pleasure to meet you."

Merlin said nothing. "Oh, come now, no need to be shy. Just tell me your name boy." Azor walked around the desk, pressing his face close to Merlin's. The servant shyed away from the pungent smells that came the 'noble.' "Nothing? Well, we'll see about that…Burns." He gestured to the solder who had brought Merlin to the tent who stood just behind Merlin.

The man nodded, and pulled a knife out of its sheath hanging at his hip. Making slow, deliberate movements, he lay the blade against Merlin's back, and quickly swiped. FleshIt was enough to make Merlin gasp in shock. But the pain was slower to arrive, and when it did, he wished he was dead. It burned, hot throbbing and unbearable. He could feel his own blood run down his back and he curled over himself breathing heavily. Azor smiled, "Now, how about that name?"

Heaving, he let out a breathy response, "Merlin."

"That's it lad. Now tell me, Merlin was it? What exactly were you and your friend doing so close to our camp?" Azor straightened his back.

"Where's my friend? What did you do to him?" Merlin asked, recovering his voice.

"Oh," Azor started. "I don't think we have to worry about him anymore. Now, you'll tell me what you were doing, or you suffer another scar."

Merlin raised his eyes and glared into the scarred face. "This land belongs to Camelot, not you. AH!" Merlin cried out as another sharp pain ripped across his back.

"Don't test me boy, or it'll be hell for you. Tell me…what were you doing?" Azor threatened, but Merlin couldn't see him, his vision blurred. And the pain reached all across his back, and he let out a whimper. He let his head fall forward and touch the moist ground. He gasped and grimaced against the agony.

"We…w-we were j-just riding, my…friend, he-he wanted to go for a ride. That's all, I s-swear." Merlin answered.

"Right, then would you like to tell me why you carried the crest of Camelot? Hm? Why your _'friend' _was wearing such fine clothing…almost, from what my soldiers tell me, fine enough for a Prince? Perhaps, the Prince of Camelot?" The noble waited, but Merlin said nothing more. Azor fumed and barked, "Take him away, no food, no water, and take his boots. He won't be needing them anymore. And send me Fastion, I'd like to speak with him, in _private_."

"Yes sir." Grabbing Merlin roughly by the shoulders, turning and shoving him out the opening. Merlin fell, his knees taking most of the blow, and he fell face first into the mud. Groaning, he tried to pick himself up, but the soldier named Burns didn't give him the time.

"Come on, swine." Burns grabbed the rope, and dragged him once more to the tree, tied him up, and took his boots. Then he left, leaving a bloody Merlin struggling to stay conscious.

* * *

><p>"How, how could you be so <em>stupid<em>! Cenred left me with nothing but a dirty sorcerer who can't even recognize Camelot's crest! And you bring me a slave in the place of a Prince!" Sir Azor's face was red with exertion. The sorcerer to whom he so violently screamed at was angry as well. His ruby pendant sparkled, darker and redder than ever before. He was once one of the most revered sorcerers in Cenred's Kingdom. But now, in his faded dress robes, he was nothing. And it was all because of Prince Arthur.

"Azor, please, let me ex-" Fastion started.

"No, either you get something out of the boy, or you'll be hanging in pieces from the treetops. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Sir Azor. But my methods are harsh. The boy may not survive." Fastion gave a slight smirk.

Azor considered this for a moment before saying, "Just keep him alive long enough to get what information is needed to destroy Camelot forever."

**I hope that you guys enjoyed it, because I have a lot of work to do on this fic, and I'm really excited! Please send a review!**


	9. More Questions

**A Test of Friendship~ Chapter 8~ More Questions**

**A/N~ I hope you guys all had a happy holiday season, and Happy New Year! Lets hope the world doesn't end! The holidays are the reason I haven't updated. Family time and all…so, yeah….  
><strong>**And thanks for reviewing, even though I don't always reply, it doesn't mean I don't care. ;)  
><strong>**And #2 remember, this is after SEASON 3, so no spoilers for Season 4. I know for some of you who have watched Season 4, this is a bit confusing. I think Agravaine will make an appearance in this fic later on, but who knows. I don't! But bear with me? Thanks!  
><strong>**And #3 I changed the summary, if you didn't notice…  
><strong>**And #4 I'm hungry….**

**Anywho…**

**ENJOY!**

Merlin tied to a tree.

Blood. And a knife. Someone screaming…a familiar voice bellowing his name.

He was helpless, merely an onlooker. He watched horrified.

This couldn't be happening. Not to him.

Not to Merlin.

"NO!"

"Sire…Sire, please, wake up. Arthur!" Gaius shook the Prince, who was struggling against invisible bonds, if you didn't count the sheets which had twisted around the struggling sleeper. Arthur's eyes rolled open, and his breath slowed, but the look of horror never left his face. And it scared the physician. The Prince had been muttering strange things in his fevered sleep, and most of it involved Merlin.

Leon had assured him that there was nothing, no evidence of where or why the bandits had taken Merlin. The horse Merlin had been riding had been found roaming a clearing and it took the knights all of an hour trying to capture it without it bolting away. They had found Arthur under an overhanging of rock a few yards away from the clearing, shivering and unresponsive. Luckily, it seemed that the cold and damp hadn't taken to his lungs, giving him pneumonia. But his leg was covered in angry bruises and red scratch marks.

The knights had thought the damage to their regent's legs was great, but Gaius dismissed their worries. It was bruised, and would be swollen and sore for a few days, but not threatening.

"Sire? How are you feeling?" Gaius asked quietly, keeping a firm hand on Arthur's arm.

Arthur stared back, "Gaius?" The old man nodded, acknowledging the question. At first, it seemed like Arthur was calm, but then he seemed to remember something. "No-Gaius, they took Merlin! I-I tried…" He tried to rise from his bed, but Gaius was prepared and pushed him back down.

"Arthur, please, just stay still. There was nothing you could do."

"Yes there is Gaius, I could have-"

"Arthur, please calm down."

"No! It's my fault we left in the first place! He's out there because of me and I-"

"Stop," Gaius held his hand up, his tone on the brink of yelling. "This is nonsense. I don't have the time for this, so please, let me heal you, then you can ease your guilt all you like. Ok?" Arthur nodded, settling back into his bed. And he said nothing more the rest of the day.

* * *

><p><strong>~NEXTDAYYADTXEN~<strong>

* * *

><p>"I'm going after them."<p>

Gaius laughed. He'd just returned as the dawn next day lit the sky. Arthur was standing, but was leaning heavily on his uninjured leg. He had managed, thought Gaius wondered how, to get himself dressed. His chain mail sat a little askew on his shoulders but other than that he looked like he was about to head off on a patrol. "Oh, are you?"

"I am, Gaius. I don't trust the scouts to do a good job trying to find the idiot. They don't care about servants." Arthur said, stepping forward.

"I don't doubt your intentions, sire, but why do you care so much for Merlin? If I were able, I'd go after them myself, but I'm not. But you're a Prince, and the Regent. Your father is ill, and Camelot needs you. Don't you think it foolish to go after bandits?" Gaius said.

Arthur looked troubled, and stood in thought. Why did he care so much for Merlin? The clot pole couldn't walk through a forest without tripping over himself and was never on time for his duties. Then why did he, Prince Arthur, Crowned Prince of Camelot, feel the urge to chase after a lowly serving boy?

"Sire, forgive me for speaking out of turn. If your willing to find Merlin, then please do so. I care about the boy far to much to do nothing."

"Gaius I promise you," Arthur began, grasping Gaius by both shoulders, "I will find Merlin, and I will bring him home."

Gaius nodded, "I just hope you don't bring a body home."

* * *

><p>Merlin was awoken with a kick to his leg. Not a soft one, mind you, but a hard swing that left his leg throbbing even more than it already was. He could tell his body heat was leaving throughout the night. His entire body was freezing and the wounds on his back ached. His shirt, which including his pants was all he was wearing, was sticky with blood and stuck to his back. The only mercy he got was the bit of hard bread they fed him. His stomach had stopped groaning sometime in the night, but the dull ache of hunger still gnawed at him, keeping him awake.<p>

But all that went to the back of his mind. He knew what was coming, and all he could do was prepare himself for it. He'd never actually been tortured until now, unless you count bullying as a form of torture.

In Ealdor, he wasn't exactly the most popular among the younglings. From an early age, he was segregated and often left behind hiding in the safety of his home. And it wasn't just because he was able to move objects with a single thought, no, it was bigger than that. When a young unmarried women gives birth, its not cause for celebration. Of course, the villagers accepted Hunith and Merlin, but just barely. His mother had given up everything to provide for them. Many scorned them for who they were and their children, following their parents example, had harmed Merlin in multiple ways.

That's why he left in the first place. He didn't fit in there. He didn't belong. Not that he was much better off with an arrogant Prince throwing various objects at him everyday for the past three years. But if felt right, for once in his life, he felt like he was where he was suppose to be.

There were few noises emanating from the other tents, and many of the horses that had been tied up the previous day were gone. Most likely on a scout or using their talents to steal supplies. There was a major trade route, not far from where he and Arthur had ridden.

The soldier who dragged him across the ground wasn't taking him back to Sir Azor's tent. Instead, they headed for a cluster of thick ancient pines that seemed to form a large circle. There were few gaps, but the man pulled Merlin through, and with his hands tied, he was unable to shield himself from the branches scratching his skin. All he could do was wince and duck whenever possible. After squeezing through a few rows of trees, they reached the center, which was open and in the middle stood Fastion, the sorcerer who had captured him. His robes were black, and around his neck, he still wore the blood-red ruby pendant. What little light made its way through the branches above, reflected on it. Merlin could feel the magic surrounding it, like an essence or a barrier. Maybe both. Fastion stood watching them approach and smiled when Merlin was thrown to the ground.

"Welcome, Merlin, to my place of solace. I believe there are some questions that we didn't quite get to yesterday. Hm?" The sorcerer asked, approaching the servant. Merlin said nothing, and stared at the ground beneath him. Fastion waited, but when Merlin didn't answer he grabbed him by the chin, forcing Merlin's head up. Merlin looked deeply into his brown orbs, even as Fastion stared into Merlin's blue ones.

And they stayed that way, staring at each other for a moment. Merlin could see anger, so much anger in this man's eyes. _It must be true then, that the eyes are the windows to the soul, _Merlin thought_._

Likewise, Fastion sized up the servant who kneeled before him with curiosity and jealousy. This pitiful creature that seemed just as curious, but fearful. Yes, pitiful indeed, like a feeble deer. But this mere servant seemed more stubborn than he looked. His eyes glared up at him, challenging him. And he loved a good challenge.

"Who was with you in the forest when you were captured.." Merlin said nothing, and Fastion smiled roughly letting go of Merlin's face, saying, "Oh, don't test me boy. You'll tell me who it was or suffer the consequences of your silence."

"No." Merlin said in a blunt tone. And he continued to glare at Fastion in an attempt to shake his growing fear. Merlin could feel the static of Fastion's magic building, threatening. His pendant darkened, as if it too, was affected by the sorcerer's mood. He couldn't bear the thought of him being used as a weapon. What Fastion was capable of, Merlin had no idea.

"Fine, but I warned you, boy. _Ansumnes_." And with that single word, the sorcerer's eyes glowed a blood red and the ruby in his pendent did also.

At first, Merlin thought nothing would happen, but after a moment something deep within him started burning, and his midsection felt like it was on fire. And he couldn't help but cry out at the pain. He doubled over himself, grasping his middle and whimpering. _Remember who your protecting, Merlin. _But the pain only increased.

"Ah!" Merlin yelled. He couldn't see anymore, the ground was a blur of brown as he blinked away tears.

"Tell me, Merlin!" Fastion said, his eyes growing darker.

Still Merlin only writhed under Fastion's ruby gaze. The pain was horrendous, agonizing, and inescapable. He briefly thought of using magic to deflect it, but he could reveal himself. Then he would just be another tool in their belt. Whatever they were planning, he had to stay silent. But that was easier said than done. Another scream rang forth. He let the waves come for minutes before he couldn't take it anymore.

"Arthur! It was Prince Arthur! Please! Stop, just stop! Ah!" The pain dissipated, and he took a deep breath in, realizing what he'd just done. _Come on, Merlin, pull yourself together! Stay strong!_

"Ah, so my sources were correct, then," Fastion began, walking around Merlin like Sir Azor had the previous day. Merlin watched him, confused.

"W-what?"

"Oh, that's right, I forgot." Fastion had made his way back around, and squatted in front of Merlin. "I already knew that the Prince of Camelot was with you." His hand disappeared into a deep pocket, and when it reappeared, it held a bit of red cloth, shoving it into Merlin's hands. Turning it over in his fingers, Merlin realized it was part of Arthur's cloak, bearing Camelot's crest. "That was just a warm-up, Merlin. Did you really think you could resist all that pain just to save your Prince?"

Merlin looked horrified, and this pleased Fastion, "W-what have you done with him?"

Fastion's pleasure faded, "Unfortunately, he eluded us. But we're just as happy with his servant. Do you know why?"

"No."

"Because I'm sure you've heard plenty of interesting things, being right by your master's side. I want to hear all about Camelot. And your going to tell me. _Sárcwide_." Fastion stated, before his eyes turned ruby once more.

* * *

><p>Sir Azor listened intently while sharpening his long knife. A subtle <em>zing<em> after each stroke, seemed to relax him more than anything. The weapon had been a gift, from someone he loved dearly. And lost tragically.

Uther Pendragon would pay for every wound he had inflicted on not only himself, but to every nation unfortunate enough to surround Camelot. Even if that meant destroying the great kingdom and every village in its bounds. He, and all those with him, would have their revenge.

A scream echoed loudly through the clearing, and Azor paused, listening. Painful, agonizing, tortured. Sir Azor smiled.

_Zing…._

_Zing…._

_Zing…._

**Ansumnes~ basically means, 'pain'  
><strong>**Sárcwide~ basically 'to give/make pain, to injury…'**

**Review?**


	10. Escape

**A Test of Friendship~ Chapter 9~ Escape**

**A/N~ Sorry, had exams last week, which sucked. I rewrote part of the Prologue, as I had a slight change of plans. Its nothing super important, but you can reread it if you want. Not required to continue the story. And I really don't like this chapter. At. All.**

**WARNING: Adult themes hinted in this chapter, just so you know. Faint, but there. And a battle sequence. Mild bloody scene. **

**ENJOY!**

"The boy's not talking, my lord." Fastion said, face flushing slightly. He had thought the servant would have talked. He'd tried everything in his power. He even called upon Burns and his knife to slice the boy's back open, and still, he said nothing. Well, he'd screamed, but other than that…

"Are you telling me, the great Fastion of Mercia, can't get a filthy, pathetic slave to give me the information that I require to conquer and destroy Camelot? Forgive me." Azor let out a bellowing laugh, and Fastion stiffened. He was reasonably prepared for the lashing out, but this was a little unsettling. Everyone in the camp had been waiting, for something good to come out of their downfall.

They had no home. Their home was gone, and all that was left was a pitiful camp full of outcasts, all of whom were desperate for a shred of hope. This boy, this servant was their last chance to take back what they rightfully deserved. Did they not? After what their corrupt and weak king did. Letting that blonde witch, Morgause, twist his heart until she controlled the kingdom without even climbing into bed with the man. Powerful indeed.

None of that mattered now, after their once great kingdom had fallen into a ruinous wasteland, all that mattered was getting it back. His only job, was to get as much information out of the servant as he could, and he had failed to do even that.

"I can't believe that I've gotten this far, so close, and that boy has to ruin it for me. And you, you'll never see that wench of your's again." Azor growled, glaring, and Fastion's eyes widened in fear.

"Well…he-he did say… something." Fastion dared to whisper, hoping it would help the situation.

The knight narrowed his eyes and leaned forward. "Come again?" He whispered dangerously.

"The-the boy said something, before we stopped. I don't think he is in his right mind, but…He said he was Emrys, and that he would protect Camelot, no matter what." Fastion spilled the news out quickly, and watched. Waiting.

"Did you say Emrys? The Emrys?" Fastion nodded, and Azor smiled. "Your brilliant Fastion! Brilliant! We may have found our savior!"

"SIR AZOR! SIR AZOR! THE BOY IS ESCAPING!" Yells and clatter arose from the silence that was, and the two paled, running out of the tent in time to see a dozen soldiers run after the fleeing Merlin.

"Oh, God. He knows, Azor, he knows about everything." Fastion whispered, feeling faint.

"Then do something! Now! Someone, kill him!" Azor screamed into the air, and he pulled out his sword.

For a moment, Fastion felt the world slow. Every brain cell he had was working, thinking, conjuring, and he let his magic, the darkness inside him, take over. His hand raised toward the runaway servant, and spoke.

"OFERGITOLIAN!" And Fastion's world disappeared in a flash of white.

* * *

><p>"Come on." The poorly dressed soldier dragged Merlin unceremoniously though the camp, practically dragging the servant. As if Merlin's day hadn't been horrid enough, being tortured and nearly loosing his mind in the process. He could remember exactly what had happened, just that he had revealed his secret identity, thinking the evil man would just leave him alone. Of course, it didn't work, but its not like he had anything to loose.<p>

His interrogator, Fastion, took great pleasure in telling him all about their plans on taking over Camelot. Of course, some of it was fuzzy, considering the amount of blood he had lost. But in essence, they planned on a sneak attack of some sort, which is probably why the man keep asking him about the tunnel system beneath the great castle. After what felt like hours of torture, he finally gave up, noticeably nervous. Azor wasn't going to be happy with him.

Right now, he wished he had practiced healing, instead of making various objects in his room float. Gaius hated that. But he muttered a short spell, just enough to replenish some of his waning strength.

And it was right about then, he decided to run. It caught the soldier by surprise, because Merlin had been completely limp only seconds before. So Merlin did what was instinctual. His eyes burned gold and the man flew backward. Merlin didn't wait to see where he landed, he just turned and took off.

Funny, he was always running somewhere. To Arthur's chambers, in an attempt to be on time for once in his life. Or maybe running from bandits, as he and Arthur had done many times. Running to pull Arthur out of the daggers path. Running to save Arthur from the Sidhe. Running to get more herbs for Gaius. For once, could he just stay in one spot and relax?

He could hear the commotion behind him and he knew this was his only chance to escape. He did his best to pick up his speed. He was almost out of the encampment, almost.

That was when it hit him, literally. A blinding white light came around him and swallowed him, leaving him lost in what felt like a vast plain of nothingness. Merlin had never felt so strange, even in comparison to becoming an eighty year-old man couldn't compare. Every thought, every noise, scent, and sight seemed to fade.

Somewhere, in the nothingness, he felt a presence. Like a colossus hand looming above him. His mind felt it take over, and it felt dark, wrong, and invasive. And it pulled at him, aggressive and angry, but with a sort of gleeful manor. His memories were fading, like the hand was pulling them away. Merlin tried to fight it, even letting his magic free, but it did little to help.

And all he remembered was a sharp pan in his side before the thing suddenly let him go, and he knew it hadn't accomplished everything it set out to do.

And he ran.

* * *

><p>"Sire, Elyan's returned." Leon announced quietly. Arthur nodded, and gripped his sword's handle tighter. The knights previously waited quietly behind the giant oak trees, while their comrade scouted ahead. There had been voices and sounds echoing through the forest, and a flock of various birds flew above the canopy away from the noise. Arthur sent Elyan ahead, because of his stealth and speed.<p>

Presently, the young knight appeared from around a great tree, breathless and worried. "There bandits, sire. I didn't see how many, but their heading this way. Now, and quickly."

Arthur grimaced, "Prepare yourselves, but wait for my cue. Leon, lead the right flank. I'll take the left. Try to wound, not kill. If they took Merlin, we need to know why and where he is. Find him if you can. Understood?" The knights bowed their heads and unsheathed their swords. Most of them removed their long red cloaks, letting them fall to the ground. Arthur raised a hand,

"Hold."

Voices floated through the trees, coming closer and closer.

"Hold."

More noise, the sound of men shouting, the clatter of metal on metal, and footfall.

"Hold!"

Every knight present gripped his sword, and let the adrenaline take over their bodies, and the prepared themselves for the next moment.

"NOW!" Arthur's hand flew down, and he let out a roar, fierce and loud. Echoing him, the others raised their swords and yelled, charging forward with the fight on their kinetic minds. The group split, fanning out. At first they couldn't see the bandits, but then they began appearing out of nowhere, running full tilt. They were generally surprised by the knights presence. Arthur approached one, and let out his fury and anger in one fluid motion.

His sword hit flesh and the man fell shortly after Arthur followed through. The prince didn't waste a second, and ran, weaving through the trees.

Another bandit approached, only to be knocked down. And another, and another, none staying upright longer than ten seconds when in Arthur's sword swinging range. The sounds of battle, which had started so quickly and reached its climax, were beginning to die down once more. There were still the occasional shout, most calling out for the missing manservant. Deciding that he, too, should search, he began yelling out Merlin's name. He strayed away from the noise, trotting through the underbrush. It grew thicker and thicker, until it seemed like evening. But it was still midday.

He probably had strayed farther than he thought, in his attempt to find the servant. Not that it worried him. He' d been on his own before, and he could handle it.

That thought left him wondering about his manservant. How could Merlin, of all people survive being alone? He'd left him alone for a few minutes once, only to return, finding the idiot clutching his hand after he cut himself. A sword, he'd been polishing a sword for goodness-sake. Who cut's themselves on a sword while polishing it? Merlin.

"Merlin!" Arthur called out, thinking there was a chance that Merlin, too, had wandered away from the battle. It was smart, and Merlin wasn't a complete idiot. He had, on more than one occasion, been a guiding hand for him.

"Oh, where you, Merlin?" Arthur said to himself. He began to sheath his sword when he noticed movement from the corner of his eye. Turning, he narrowed his eyes, but the undergrowth was too thick. Walking slowly, pulling his sword back out he approached. As he got closer, he could see blue, and plenty of dark brown splattered all over it. He reached out and pulled away some of the branches.

His eyes widened as they took in the sight.

"Merlin!" The prince cried out, running toward the body.

The man was a mess of blood and sickly pale. Arthur grasped his shoulders, and shook him gently. "Merlin! Wake up Merlin!" Arthur looked closer at his servants form. Blood ran fast from various wounds, but what worried him was the hole in his blue, well, now dark red shirt. A shaking hand grasped the fabric and gently pulled it upward. Arthur gasped a little at the hole in his servants stomach. Merlin's breathes were fast, and jarring his body.

"Don't do this to me Merlin, please!" Arthur put his hand on the side of Merlin's face. His skin was freezing, like ice, and his lips were pale blue. "I'm sorry, this is my fault. I did this. I did this to you, and I'm sorry." Arthur gathered Merlin into his arms, and held onto him like a lifeline.

That's when he heard it. "Arthur." Then Merlin settled and became a dead weight.

**Ofergitolian~ forget, erase**

**WORST WRITING EXPERIENCE OF MY LIFE! Review to make me feel better?**


	11. What Was Lost

**A Test of Friendship~ Chapter 10~ What Was Lost**

**A/N~ You guys are just awesome. Thanks for supporting me! I should also say how happy I am that I'm past that darn prologue. Hopefully I can put the plot bunnies in my head onto paper and make this darn story work. ;) This is more of a reflective chapter, from the knight's perspective.**

**Warning: anguage and adult themes in this chapter are again faintly present, thanks to Gwaine. And bloody Merlin, of course. **

**P.S.! Last chapter, I forgot to add that the spell Fastion, basically, means to forget. Sorry.**

**A/N 2~ ATTENTION! This is a repost, yes, another reposted chapter. But this is a WIP, and any and every good author rewrites! **

**ENJOY!**

Gwaine and the other knights stumbled over the rough forest floor and struggled through the thick underbrush. The bandits that they had encountered seemed to have all been taken down. Either that, or they had disappeared completely. It was almost silent, with the exception of the knights themselves, who where still calling out for Merlin.

It had been at least ten minutes before Leon called out for them to regroup. "Dammit, Merlin, where are you?" Gwaine said to himself, shaking his head. That man just had to get himself caught.

'_Not that I'm much better,' _Gwaine thought, remembering the various prisons he had been forced into after a particularly violent and raucous tavern fight. Memories flooded his mind's eye, and he could help but smile at them.

He and Merlin had a few pleasant tavern encounters, and one of them seemed to grab his momentary attention.

_~.One Month Earlier.~_

"'_ou gonna finish 'hat?" Gwaine slurred, waving his hand sluggishly at the half filled mug that Merlin cradled in his long fingers._

"_Nah, knock you self out." Merlin started, before saying "Not literally." Pointing a finger at his friend. He'd had a rather large tankard of ale already, and he could feel the effects begin to shrink his judgment. He would have stopped, but it had been a long few weeks since Morgana's betrayal, and he desperately needed the alcohol. Gwaine had seen how shaken Merlin was after his ex-friend had practically stabbed him in the back. _

_Reaching for the cup, he raised it to his lips and downed it. From what Merlin willingly spilled about the lying witch, he could tell that it had been a hard hit on all of Camelot. Arthur, after shaking off the shock and disappointment, had addressed the entire kingdom on the matter, informing them of Morgana and her actions. Apparently, he had scouts and several of his best knights out to find her but there was no trace of Morgana, only a week after the battle of Camelot ended._

_Merlin, on the other hand, said nothing of the incident to anyone but Arthur. Which was understandable, but he worried Gwaine. He would barely speak to Gwen about the whole affair, who had been his friend since his arrival at Camelot. And Gwaine was getting tired of all the secrets._

"'_M'lin, 're you my fr'nd?" Merlin turned his head, with an almost sad look._

"_What do you mean by that?" Merlin asked._

"_You ne'er say a thing 'bout Mor'na to me 'nd it worries me. Why don' you tell me?" Gwaine asked, attempting to stare his friend down. Merlin gave him a tight lipped smile._

"_I just don't want to talk about it."_

_~.End Flashback.~_

He never asked about Morgana again. He wasn't a jerk, and he sure as hell wasn't about to loose the best friend he'd ever had over some wench.

Gwaine turned and started back toward Leon's voice.

That is, before he heard someone cry out, somewhere to his right. Jerking back around, he yanked out his sword and held onto it with both hands.

It was more of an echo, which meant whoever made it was far away. Glancing backward, he toyed with the idea of calling for help. But curiosity got the better of him, and he took off into the dark wood.

* * *

><p>"Has anyone picked up a trail?" Leon asked, addressing the several knights that had gathered around him, panting.<p>

"None from the south, Sir Leon." Percival stated grimly.

Elyan spoke up, "Nor from the East." Leon frowned, looking around for their leader.

"Has anyone seen Prince Arthur?" None of them said anything, but exchanged worried glances.

Lancelot, who had been standing on the outskirts of the group, stepped forward. "I saw him head North, last I saw. And I might add that Gwaine is missing as well. He, too, took off to the north."

Nodding, Leon spoke again in a commanding voice, "Then we need to find them. We need to fan out and search again. But we need to keep close, we can't risk losing anyone else. Lets move."

A unison clatter of armor and swords scrapping against their sheath's announced there next move into the forest. They snuck through the woods, occasionally loosing sight of one another, but within hearing distance.

Lancelot was worried, not just because of the dangers the forest presented, with a possible surprise bandit attack and dealing with the rough terrain. His thoughts were more bent on Merlin. He'd noticed a dramatic change in him ever since Morgana betrayed Arthur and Camelot. After all Merlin had done for him, the least he could do was keep an eye on him.

Even Lancelot knew that the boy was a hazard to himself. He'd gotten in a bar fight once, one New Years, and was put to bed rest for days with several stitches on his forehead. Even with his magic to assist him, he could barely swing a sword. The man had practically no muscle on him, and he was damned lucky to have knights for friends. Otherwise, he'd probably be dead already.

Not to mention his trouble with sharp objects, as they always caused him trouble…

_~.Three Weeks Previous.~_

_It was a normal scout, Arthur was in a mood, and there just had to be a group of bandits only yards ahead. The scouting trip had turned into a raiding mission. And Merlin was assigned, by Arthur, the duty of watching the horses. _

"_Merlin, are you sure you can handle this?" Lancelot asked, eyeing his friend, who now held a very long, very heavy sword in his clumsy hands._

"_You don't think I can protect myself?" Merlin looked slightly put out. _

_Lancelot smiled, "Not that. I mean, are you sure you won't cut your own head off with that sword? You can barely polish them without cutting yourself. Like the time you-"_

_Merlin cut him off, saying, "I'll be fine, don't worry."_

_~.Ten Minutes Later.~_

"_Merlin! You idiot!" Arthur ran over to the bleeding manservant, and grabbed the bleeding limb. _

"_It's just a scratch, really I'm f-" He tried to explain, but another voice cut him off._

"_Merlin! What happened?" Then another._

"_Is he alright?"_

"_Was it a bandit?"_

"_Is he dying?"_

"_I'M. FINE!" The servant cried, exasperated._

_Lancelot shook his head. "I told you you'd hurt yourself, but you never listen to me, do you?"_

_~.End Flashback.~_

He wasn't shy to voice it with Merlin, but with the other knights, he said little. But he worried about Merlin, and his belief in his destiny. Never afraid to jump in front of a sword swinging at the Prince. Lancelot wished that he could take Merlin's place, because he deserved so much more than he got.

Suddenly, there was a cry somewhere ahead, and it sounded desperate. It sounded like Gwaine. And that's all it took for Lancelot to shoot off toward the voice, leaving the rest several seconds behind.

* * *

><p>"Merlin! Oh Gods!" Gwaine cried out, falling to his knees beside the Prince, and grasping Merlin's shoulders. Gwaine began muttering to himself, letting his anguish roll down his cheeks in the form of salty tears. "No. Please, no." Gwaine shook Merlin lightly, trying to rouse him, but there was no response.<p>

"Gwaine, we need help," Arthur struggled to gain the attention of the upset man, fighting back his own tears. Gwaine's reaction had been far more emotional than his had been. He was still in the shocked stage, while Gwaine went full blast with the dramatic death scene.

But the thing is, Merlin wasn't dead. Unfortunately, for both Merlin and Arthur, Gwaine was to busy with his theatrics to see that Merlin was still breathing, but struggling for each breath.

"Gwaine! Listen to me! He's alive, Gwaine. He's alive! See, he's breathing! Look," Arthur grabbed Gwaine and shook him firmly. "He needs help. We need to get him to Camelot. Now."

Gwaine's breathing was ragged, and his now blotchy face was glistening with tears. He put his hand against Merlin's chest and felt the movement. Arthur let go of his shoulders. He stayed still for a few moments before Arthur spoke again.

"Now, Gwaine."

The knight nodded, and set his face into a stern stony look. He slid his arm around Merlin's shoulder's and his other under Merlin's knees, lifting him up. Merlin's head lolled onto his shoulder. Gwaine glanced at the Prince, expecting him to argue about him carrying the servant.

But Arthur didn't oppose.

**I wrote this to meet a personal deadline. I probably will revisit this. Don't expect an update until at least next Sunday, maybe later. I have a crap load of plans this week. Which all stink. :/ Sorry.**


	12. Returning Home

**A Test Of Friendship~ Chapter 11~ Returning Home**

**A/N~ Kind-of a dark mood this chapter….thunder, lightning, all that good stuff. Also, death of a cute forest animal and a nameless soldier. Sorry. :/ I was listening to this while I wrote it. **

**http : / www . you tube .com / watch ? v=o Nv FP Kujc5w (delete spaces)**

**And the reason for my lateness…writer's block and Dean Winchester. **

**ENJOY!**

The forest was silent, not a breath of wind stirring the trees. The thunder clouds that had been gathering and thundering for the past hour were growing evermore darker. A fox ran through the brush, the only living thing moving in the area. It trotted around, pausing only to sniff the ground.

A twig snapped, and a red-haired head followed the sound. There was nothing there. So, the fox continued on. It paused again, sniffed the ground, and pawed it a little, sniffed again, and dug deeper.

A few minutes later, the fox was eating on what seemed to be some sort of grub. As it chewed it relaxed, it's normally attentive senses distracted by the food.

That's why it didn't realize someone was approach from behind until a sharp object entered it's side and the world disappeared.

* * *

><p>"Why do you need blood anyway?" The dirty soldier asked, his face screwed up due to the heavy smell of blood. He'd gotten at least half of it on himself, which made him all the more agitated. But not quite as much as the sorcerer he answered to was at this moment.<p>

"Silence, boy. I could have used yours!" Fastion glared, and returned to his work. He'd abandoned his long heavy robes and closed the tent's openings as tight as they would go. He ordered the entire camp earlier that day that he was to be left alone, no matter what.

He could not be disturbed. Not with something as important as this hanging in the balance. It wasn't his fault that the boy had escaped, but the blame was directed his way, like it always was.

He couldn't falter now. He didn't know if the spell on the boy would keep him quiet long enough for them to take Camelot, but that would have to wait. Now he had a ritual to perform.

On his once clean table was an array of bottles, bowls, strange herbs, potions, and now a rather large jar of fox blood. The blood was necessary as it was the basis of the ritual. He could have easily cut down any one of the 'soldiers' and could have cared less, but Sir Azor would have his head if he did. 'Each man counts in this fight against Camelot.' Bah, what good were they if they couldn't even fight?

Half of these lazy sods came from the local taverns, which were full of men drunk enough to think they had a chance. That's why their army was so huge to begin with. Until they were defeated of course.

Azor had it in his thick skull that strength alone could win any battle. Yet, even with the help of that blonde witch, they still lost.

Grabbing several potions at once, he glanced at the aged text that lay open next to an ornate stone bowl. The basin had several carvings etched around the sides, all of which had been worn with age and use. The bottles of herbs and potions were equally expended, several of them with cracks. The old yellowed paper that must have once told what they with-held was worn-down to a soft powder, and droplets of glue could be seen.

He opened each one carefully and poured bit of each into the stone basin.

The soldier shifted back and forth, nervously, and bit his lip. Finally he dared to speak again. "Hey, what are you going to do with that there?"

Fastion ignored him, and the soldier got anxious. His shaking hand grabbed his knife. "Sorcerer, answer me." Still no answer. The knife slid out of its sheath.

"One false move, and I'll have you wishing you'd never been born." The sorcerer threatened, without pausing from his work. The soldier slid the knife back into its sheath, but kept his hand wrapped tightly around its hilt, and tensed up, prepared for anything.

When Fastion was finished adding the various potions to the bowl, the contents were jet black and thick, like honey.

He smirked a little, and turned, saying, " I need one more thing…You see, my boy, this spell takes more than a few magical liquids and a handful of foreign words. It requires a certain amount of…power, shall we say. That's where you come in."

"H-how do you mean?" The soldier asked, his pupils big, almost engulfing his dark brown irises. His knuckles turned white as his hand constricted the knife.

"I mean, idiot, that I need you to do something else for me."

"What would that be sir?"

He placed his hand on the soldier's forehead and said, "Die. Ealdorgedál."

Slowly the man paled, his lips tinged blue and his breath faltered. Then he stopped breathing altogether, and his cold body fell to the ground.

* * *

><p>"Leon, I need you to stay with a second patrol. If any escaped alive, we need them. We have to know who they are and why they are within Camelot's borders. And if there are more of them, I want them alive." Arthur huffed, making his way over to his horse. The trek in the woods had taken more out of him than he would have liked. It was moments like these where he wished he had the time to train and keep fit. But with the weakened state of the kingdom, he couldn't afford to flitter around with his sword.<p>

Ahead, Gwaine and Lancelot already had Merlin settled atop one of Camelot's most surefooted mounts. She stood quietly as the two knights strapped Merlin to the saddle and wrapped a thick red cloak around his shoulders.

"Sire, he'll be alright." Arthur felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. He raised his hand and rubbed his eye to clear his vision. He wouldn't say so, but he could hardly hold the tears back. Instead of the casual wipe, he dug his knuckles into his eye sockets. He sucked in a deep breath and let it out in a shaky sigh. Nodding stiffly, he approached Merlin and the mare and mounted.

Another horse stood behind them, which Gwaine mounted. "Gwaine, ride ahead." Arthur ordered.

Gwaine said, "Yes Sire." Then he squeezed his heels into the horse's side until it started into a jerky trot, evening out into a comfortable lope before they disappeared through the brush and branches.

Arthur held onto his servant a little tighter and whispered into his ear.

"Hold on."

* * *

><p>"Gwen, I'm sure that Merlin is fine. Arthur will bring him back. We just have to have a little faith in them." Gaius held onto the maid's shoulders, in attempts to calm her fears.<p>

Everyone in the castle had heard the news of the Prince's missing manservant and there was a buzz of curiosity and even fear. Gossip spread quickly in a castle, and Camelot was no exception. The maid's and manservant's, including Merlin and Gwen, heard it first. Then wherever they went, stories and rumors grew.

Now the hot new topic happened to be the evil bandits who kidnapped manservant's. It frightened the women more than the men, but in general, the entire castle was in a nearly silent uproar.

"But Gaius, what if he's dead? What if he's been lying in the forest, cold and alone for days? I-I just can't imagine not having him around. I…he's my friend and I'm worried. He's stretched himself far to thin the past couple months." Gwen sniffed, wiping her nose with her hand.

"I know, but when he comes home, well make sure he gets plenty of-" Gaius stopped at the sound of yelling and the clatter of metal and horse hooves on stone.

Both Gwen and Gaius immediately forgot their conversation and took off toward the courtyard. They were two floors up, so it took them a few moments before they reached ground level. Gwen was younger and took the lead naturally, but Gaius was moving faster than he had in years.

As they started down the last set of stairs, they nearly ran into Gwaine and Arthur, who were helping each other carry Merlin.

At first Gaius and Gwen froze, letting their eyes swallow up all that was in front of them. Gwaine wasn't prepared to wait.

"Gaius! He need help! Now!"

Then the stillness ended, and more people gathered to see what the commotion was about. Gwen herself was pushed aside as more people helped to transport Merlin up to the Physician's Chambers. Her face was covered with hot glistening tears, and she let out a soft cry as her friend was carried away. The shock and suddenness of it all had taken her breath away. She lay her left palm on the wall behind her and raised the other to her chest.

It wasn't until Katie, a fellow maid, grasped her, did she move from that spot. Normally, by now she'd have been in Morgana's chambers, and together, they'd discuss it and take action.

But Morgana wasn't here, and they would never fight evil together ever again.

* * *

><p>"His injuries are severe, and numerous, sire. His back has been cut so many times, its almost pointless to sew them each up individually. His legs have received a good beating and the wound on his stomach…" Gaius breathed as he reached for another swath of cloth. "I don't know how he is still alive, sire. The fever is beginning to take over, and infection will begin to attack his body. There is little I can do now."<p>

Arthur stood at the room's edge, attentively watching as his friend was slowly patched up. His eyebrows drawn close together, he looked deep in thought. But really it was the worry. He'd grow gray with the stress this latest string of terrifying events Merlin had thrust upon him in only a few short days.

"Is there anything we can do? We can't just sit here and do nothing!" Gwaine offered. But the physician just shook his head.

"I'm afraid that is almost all we can do." he said, as he dipped the cloth into a deep bucket of cold water, squeezing it and then placing it onto his ward's sweaty forehead.

The prince listened, growing evermore upset at the fact that he was, once again, watching his manservant die in front of his eyes. But last time, there was something he could physically do. He himself could change Merlin's fate with a single leaf, and now all he could do was stand here. If only there was a way…

"That's it," he said quietly, drawing himself out of his mind.

"Sire?"

"Arthur? What's 'it?'"

Arthur leaped forward and knelt next to Merlin's bed and looked up into Gaius's confused face. "Gaius, is it true? All of those stories of your healing medicine. Before my father outlawed magic, did you use it to heal people?"

Gaius looked uncomfortable, "Sire, I-."

"Is it true?" Arthur repeated forcefully. Gwaine stood, and took a step closer, intent on the old physician.

"Yes."

Arthur's breath quickened slightly, and he tried his best to contain the moment's joy from his facial expressions. "Then I, Arthur Pendragon, Regent of Camelot, grant you permission to use magic to heal my manservant."

**Well, I hope that wasn't total crap, because it took me a week to write after I found the inspiration again. I'm mentally and physically exhausted, but at least I got this darn chapter written! Thank you, for everyone. My readers, supporters, and everyone else. You guys are awesome!**


	13. AN

My dear readers,

I am sorry to say that I must drop all stories and projects. Before you get mad and start throwing various non-deadly but painful items at my head, let me explain.

I'll just throw it out their. My mother is an alcoholic and my dad is getting a divorce. Its been a rough couple years, and its something no one in my family can deal with anymore. Let me say, she is not violent or abusive. But she can't even take care of herself anymore, and she blames everything on everyone else.

Ok, enough of that. I don't want to get too into it.

You guys have been absolutely amazing, generous, and at times patiently impatient. I am grateful of all your support, advice and company. I have just one more favor to ask. If you would keep me in your thoughts/prayers (whichever you believe), I would be, again, ever so grateful. I shall continue to read and support other authors, but I'm afraid I won't be able to check my email as often due to work and school. If you wish to contact me, I will respond ASAP.

Again, thanks so much for everything. I love you guys.

June


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